


Venom of the Heart

by MistyDawn



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Jaskier, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier doesn't know Geralt is an omega, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Geralt, Service Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Shameless Smut, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22666732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyDawn/pseuds/MistyDawn
Summary: He sighed as the cool water ran over him, washing away blood and soothing the intense warmth that cloyed to his skin. Maybe the heat wouldn’t be bad, maybe he could ride it out alone.“I take it you slayed the monster then?”FUCKHe’d forgotten about JaskierWitcher's don't have heats...until they do.An encounter with a succubus has unintended consequences.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 33
Kudos: 1171





	Venom of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> So..this happened ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Many thanks to my beta [Leo_Our_Queen!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leo_Our_Queen/pseuds/Leo_Our_Queen)

Venom of the Heart

_Fuck_

Yep. He definitely hadn’t seen it going this way. Yet there he was, staggering along the dirt path, covered in blood and gods know what else. He stumbled and his head lolled backwards allowing blinding light to pierce his eyes.

_Morning already?_

It took a moment for his too-sensitive eyes to adjust, but he realised he had looked up towards the tree canopy where the light shone through gaps in the trees. He hadn’t realised he’d been fighting that long. It should have been relatively straight forward, an in-out kind of job once you knew what to look for.

A string of bodies had turned up along a trade route that ran between three towns. The bodies were always naked, but other than that, there were no visible wounds. No slashes, no puncture marks, no body parts strewn about in a pile of guts. Just missing people and then a few days later matching corpses showing up.

In truth Geralt wouldn’t have bothered with this particular mystery. It was less ‘monster’ and more ‘man’ to him. Coupled with the lack of monster sightings, he would have quite happily have given the three towns a miss. But of course, Jaskier insisted they go. Not because of the murders mind you, but because apparently:

“ _Glenndenhaven has simply the best carpenter this side of the blue mountains! We have to go!”_

_“Why can’t you go alone? It’s a three-day detour.”_

_Jaskier whirled towards him, “Because it was you who broke my lute. You owe me.”_

_“It wasn’t my fault, if you didn’t want it broken you shouldn’t have set it on the bench right before I sat down!”_

They had ended up going, Jaskier had been ecstatic when he got his new lute, practically bouncing around the town singing and stringing elaborate notes on the instrument to anyone who would listen. Then the townspeople had cornered them before Geralt could make his quick getaway. They’d banded together apparently, raising enough coin to hire the Witcher that had wandered into their town. It was easy money really. So who was Geralt to refuse? No monster, no magic, just some deranged human running around killing drunks.

_Or so he thought._

He’d opened up one of the bodies, for the sake of being thorough, and found a shrivelled heart. Which could only mean one thing: monster, magic, something distinctly _not_ human.

A succubus.

Tricky bastards if you didn’t know how they operated. Luckily for the Witcher he’d dealt with their kind before. They stayed close to their hunting grounds, but not so close as to risk detection. They only hunted at night when they could easily entice a traveller, on their way home after an evening of overindulgence, away from the beaten path and right into their trap.

Though with a hunting ground that seemed to extend to multiple towns, Geralt definitely had his work cut out for him. But as luck would have it there was an inn at the waypoint between the towns. On the trade road where it split into three different paths. An obvious target if he’d ever seen one, filled with drunks and people likely not noticed to be missing before it was too late. 

He stumbled again, his head swam and the world shifted around him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the cool breeze sooth his hot skin. How long had the fight gone on for?

He had intended to leave Jaskier at the inn, but for once the bard had protested being left in a bustling tavern. He’d chattered about being left in the ‘prime hunting spot’ and how ‘it’s better to get the story when it's fresh in your head’. So to spare himself the argument, he had reluctantly set off into the wilderness atop Roach, along with a bard that seemed unable to keep his mouth shut for two whole fucking minutes.

They found the succubi’s lair relatively quick, a large cave system not far from the crossroad. But it was a fools game to enter a cave system that large without knowing where you were going. Even with his enhanced eyesight there was no guarantee Geralt could find the succubus in the vast darkness, or even if he did, he was just as likely to get lost in the twisting maze of tunnels and become trapped.

No. Better to wait until dusk, when the succubus decided to hunt and inadveantly revealed itself. They set up camp not far away, and when the sky became dark, Geralt looped back to the caves by himself.

Succubi were near-immortal creatures with supernatural strength and speed. Many called them demons on account of their unsavoury feeding habits, that is, they had an insatiable lust, one that drove them to seduce anyone they could get their hands on so that they could literally feed on their victims soul.

But they had their weaknesses.

Rule number one when fighting a succubus: Stab them through the heart with a silver dagger.

Geralt unfortunately, didn’t possess a silver dagger in his weapons arsenal. He did however, have a silver longsword. The succubus had screeched a high-pitched wail when he had unsheathed it. In that moment it had realised its attempt to seduce him had failed, clearly unaware that Witcher’s could see through the magical beauty glamour to the twisted creature below. Sensing the imminent threat, the succubus had lunged at him, its deformed face contorting as its hooved feet moved forward with a burst of speed.

Geralt had pivoted, dodging its primary attack, then twisted back to catch the swing of a clawed hand before plunging his sword deep into the creatures chest.

Rule number two when fighting a succubus: Don’t get bitten.

The succubus had stilled and then slowly shrivelled up before his eyes, leaving only a deep red bite mark on his arm where it had managed to pierce his leather armour with its powerful jaw.

_Fuck_

He’d held his arm up in the pale moonlight, the blood running down it in seemingly inky rivulets. The venom pumped through his veins, quickly being distributed throughout his entire body, its unusually high concentration taking control of his endocrine system.

Succubi didn’t usually bite, at least not their victims. The venom was a powerful aphrodisiac, slowly administered to whomever they had managed to seduce through saliva transfer during a kiss. A bite on the other-hand, delivered a high dose of venom all at once directly to the blood, completely avoiding the hepatic first pass metabolism of the liver. 

In other words, Geralt was fucked. Or he would be.

He’d felt his heart speed up and sweat form on his brow as the venom took hold. A dizziness had consumed him and then he’d passed out, head hitting the hard ground as he fell.

When he had awoken, the early morning sun had been peaking on the horizon. Heat consumed him. Prickling at his skin, making every movement and touch unbearable, filling him with that deep maddening _need_. 

He’d risen from the forest floor with one goal; make it back to camp.

Which brought him back to his current trek. He moved past a particularly thick grouping of trees and his sensitive ears picked up the sound of rushing water. It spurred him on quicker and he managed to gather enough energy to jog forward to see the still-smoking fire pit and the small tent he’d set up the night before. Roach perked his ears up as Geralt ran past him and all but jumped into the river.

He sighed as the cool water ran over him, washing away blood and soothing the intense warmth that cloyed to his skin. Maybe the heat wouldn’t be bad, maybe he could ride it out alone.

“I take it you slayed the monster then?”

_FUCK_

He’d forgotten about Jaskier.

Geralt spun around in the water to face the shoreline. Jaskier stood just outside the tent, hair dishevelled from sleep and his tunic slightly rumpled. He yawned and stretched his arms out above his head, exposing his midriff from where it peeked out where his tunic had ridden up, “Not talkative today are we?”

Geralt hummed in reply.

Jaskier walked over to one of the saddlebags slung over a rock and rummaged about in it until he produced a shiny red apple. He threw it up in the air, before catching it in his other hand and taking a bite. “Well go on then,” he said chewing, “Spill the details, this song won’t write itself.”

Geralt _had_ intended to talk. To tell the other man exactly what happened. But he found the words choked off in his throat and his mouth suddenly dry. A drop of apple juice ran down Jaskier’s chin from a particularly juicy bite and the bard paused in his chewing, running one long finger up the droplet trail and then sucking it into his mouth. Jaskier didn’t moan exactly, but he let out a satisfied groan and then he carried on eating, completely unaware of the havoc his actions were having on his friend. Geralt watched with wild intensity, gaze fixed on the other man's plush lips, watching as Jaskiers pink tongue darted out to lick at the juice. 

Geralt shook his head, scattering his thoughts. He was an omega. Jaskier was an alpha. Not that people would guess. When the pair showed up at a new town, bundling into a tavern out of the cold, people assumed the new alpha scent permeating the air originated from the large, bulky man with an intimidating assortment of weapons attached to his back, and a yellow glare that could curdle milk. No one suspected it was the little, spritely bard that skipped round the room, singing of wild tales and merriment.

Better to let them think they knew everything, that way people wouldn’t go looking for answers they didn’t know existed. Let them think that all Witcher’s were alphas, because surely they were the only ones capable? Most people’s views didn’t fit the Witcher persona; according to them beta’s would wilt under the pressure and omegas were too weak to even bear thinking of.

Many Witcher’s allowed the rumours, just as they allowed the rumours that they held no emotion. It was easier- safer. In truth Witcher’s came in all castes. However, the mutagenesis altered them. As well as infertility, they were completely scentless, which only served to benefit them in regard to stealth, as many beasts could not smell them coming. Many of the typical behaviours of the specific designations were also muted to erase any vulnerabilities. Finally, biological functions like heat or rut were extremely delayed, sometimes only triggering once a decade, if at all.

Geralt watched the long line of Jaskier’s throat, the other mans adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed another bite of the fruit. He vaguely wondered what it would be like to bury his nose in the alpha glands there. To inhale the strong spicy scent of the bard and-

Jaskier waved his hands in the air, “Hellooo anyone in there? Did it cut out your tongue or are you deciding to be particularly mute today?”

Geralt shook his head, snapping back out of his hazy thoughts, “I killed it.”

He went back to scooping water over himself to get rid of the last bloody patches that still resided on his skin. Meanwhile Jaskier threw his arms out wide and spun, as if talking to an imaginary audience, “Oh! He killed it, how riveting!”

He turned back to pierce Geralt with his powder blue eyes, “Please I’m begging you to slow down, I can’t take in all this information at once!” he deadpanned.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “We fought. I won. There’s not much more to it.”

Jaskier took one final bite of his apple before throwing the core to Roach, “Details, my dear Witcher, details! How am I to put my lyrical brilliance and vast knowledge of poetry to use if I have nothing to work with?”

Geralt grunted.

Jaskier continued to talk, moving closer to the water line, “What was the fight like? How did you kill it? Did you- ” the bard stopped talking abruptly, instead staring at his friend in the water, “What happened to your arm?”

“Nothing”, he replied and hid his injured arm behind his back. He shouldn’t have come back here, Witcher’s didn’t have a scent- but their heat slick did. If Jaskier got too close, if he smelt Geralt’s omega scent, the jig would be up. Maybe he’d leave, he’d be angry that Geralt had never told him. That he’d been misled all these years. What if he told everyone else? No one would want to hire an omega; it was one of the reasons the Witcher guild kept designations a secret in the first place. Most of the general population saw omegas as precious weaklings that couldn’t lift a finger in the name of their own protection- never mind them being fucking monster hunters.

“Oh don’t you go hiding that injury from me mister!”

The Witcher huffed in annoyance, “I’m immune to infection.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Yes, maybe from normal injury. But we both know what happened the last time you got bitten by a magical creature and let it fester!” Jaskier waded out into the shallows and gently pulled Geralt’s arm toward himself. He studied it intently, worrying his lip with his teeth as he assessed the wound.

Heat simmered under Geralt’s skin. It gnawed at him from within, consuming him like an out of control fire. It made his knees weak and having the alpha so close only made it worse. Jaskier’s cool hands firmly gripped Geralt’s arm and he couldn’t say for certain that he’d still be standing upright without them.

_Fuck when did Jaskier get such big biceps?_

Jaskier hummed then said, “It looks horrendous. Who knows what effect it will have on you. I’ll bandage it up quickly and get some herbs packed into the bite.” He walked out of the water towards the supply bags on the shore, pulling the bigger man along after him.

Geralt followed dumbly. His head was swimming as he could feel the intense need starting to pool inside of him. He needed Jaskier. Needed him to push him down and-

“Right here we are!” Jaskier delved into a saddle bag and fished out the drawstring sack that held the healing supplies. He turned to his patient and his eyes widened, taking in the glazed over eyes and the blush of fever that rested on usually pale cheeks. “Fuck Geralt, you look awful,” he put the back of his hand on the Witcher’s forehead, “You’re burning up! Right. Fuck. Do you know what a succubus bite does?”

Geralt looked at him with half lidded yellow eyes and grunted. Too much talking. Too hot. He couldn’t concentrate. He reached up and clumsily took his restrictive leather jerkin off, leaving himself wearing only his silver wolf pendant and tunic which thankfully allowed the cool breeze to sooth his sweaty skin.

“Okay, okay. You sit down.” Jaskier said as he put his hands on Geralt’s shoulders and pushed him into a seated position atop a tree stump. The bard set about cleaning the wound and then carefully wrapped it in clean bandages. When Geralt didn’t immediately look better he set about pacing, funnelling his worrying into restless movement.

Jaskier paced back and forth in the clearing, clearly at a loss of what to do. Geralt huffed. He didn’t need to sit down! What he needed was his alpha. He moved to get up but Jaskier beat him to it.

“ _ **Don’t** _get up,” the man growled, subconsciously using his alpha voice.

Geralt’s addled brain followed the order immediately. Responding fully to the alpha command. Jaskier probably hadn’t meant to growl, and he definitely didn’t know the taller man would actually be obedient. Geralt himself was slightly surprised, he wasn’t used to his omega side. It was usually dormant- the typical omega behaviours kept submerged by his Witcher physiology. It seemed all of that went out the window in a heat induced by succubus venom.

He felt as slick began to slide down one of his legs.

_Fuck_

Geralt’s heart was in his mouth. Maybe he should just tell the bard, consequences be damned. If Jaskier left him then he would be vulnerable and alone in the woods. But, hopefully he would be far enough away from the towns that no strange alphas would sniff him out.

“Do I need to get a healer?” The bard babbled. “I can take Roach back to Glenndenhaven!”

The alpha was panicking. Geralt could barely listen. He was too hot, too far into this heat. He didn’t need a healer. He only needed one thing.

He could smell himself, and wasn’t that an odd thing? He hadn’t smelt his own scent in years, not since his last heat and even then, it hadn’t been as strong. A new wave of heat rolled over him, coiling in his lower abdomen and causing more slick, which only heightened his scent; the ocean mixed with something like a fresh mist lying over a snow tipped mountain, all underlined with the sweet smell that all omegas in heat had. 

Jaskier suddenly stopped pacing and scented the air, “Do you smell that? What-“

Geralt stood, his heat heavy limbs protesting, and grabbed the front of Jaskier’s tunic so he could pull him in for a desperate kiss. Jaskier didn’t react for a moment- stunned, then as if all at once he surged forward into the embrace, tongue tangling with the other as they deepened the kiss.

Geralt broke it first, gasping, “It’s me. The bite…it made me go into heat.”

Multiple facial expressions passed over the smaller mans shock-stricken face. “W..what do you mean?! You're an omega? I thought you didn’t have a designation! I thought it was some weird mutational trait of Witcher’s!” he stuttered.

Geralt grunted in reply.

Jaskier turned and walked a few paces into the clearing then spun on his heel to face the omega, “So wait do all Witcher’s have a caste? Oh! Are they all omegas?” he was on a roll, questions spilling from his mouth like loose pages from a book, “How does that even work?”

Okay, this was not the reaction Geralt had expected. He expected more shouting, more ‘ _why didn’t you tell me’_ and _‘why don’t you trust me’._

“And why kiss m-…you kissed me,” Jaskier stopped all his movements, body oddly still and un-fidgeting for once. “ _You_ kissed _me_.” He slowly pointed from Geralt then to himself on the words ‘you’ and ‘me’, his brain slugging through his revelation. “But…why me? You could have any alpha you want.”

“I want you.” It was a simple feeling. Of wanting something. The Witcher had tried to shy away from it at first. But Jaskier wasn’t like other alphas. Or at least the majority of them. He was cunning and witty, and when he smiled at Geralt it was like looking at the sun after a long, cold night. He didn’t know exactly when he had fallen in love. But one day he found that he actually enjoyed the singing. He found when Jaskier was gone he missed him, missed the way he would bite his pencil and mumble when writing new sonnets or how he would skip about the crowds of people, somehow keeping their attention solely focused on him as he sang.

“That’s just the heat talking,” Jaskier rebuked matter of fact, then his eyes widened as he realised what he’d said, “ _Fuck_ you’re in heat! What are we going to do?!”

Geralt hummed, then said “I can think of a few things.” He moved forward, his long legs carrying him to the centre of the clearing where Jaskier stood.

“Wait!” Jaskier threw up his hands onto the Witcher’s broad chest, “I need to know that this isn’t just the heat talking,” baby blue eyes pierced into hazy yellow, “Before we do this I need to know that you truly want this. I won’t take advantage of you in this state.”

Jaskier was his friend- his companion on his travels. He hadn’t meant to become friends with him. The bard had simply walked up to his secluded corner of a busy tavern and he hadn’t left since. Not for lack of trying on Geralt’s part. And oh how he had tried. It wasn’t easy living a life of solitude only to be barraged with a chattering musician that would burst into song at any given chance. But Jaskier had grown on him, turned into his friend, someone he reluctantly cared for at first but now cherished above all else.

Witcher’s lived dangerous lives. But Geralt trusted his with Jaskier.

“I want this,” he nodded, “I think I might always have.”

That was all Jaskier needed. He pushed up into the taller man, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s neck to pull him into a deep kiss. It was intoxicating, Geralt could taste the alpha hormones on his tongue- the spicy taste of the bard filling up his senses, making his knees weak and the need pooling in his stomach more intense. More slick seeped out of him, wetting the seat of his trousers, and he barely held back a whine.

The bard leaned back, taking in the others flushed complexion and half-lidded eyes, “Right let’s get you inside then.”

He took Geralt’s hand in his own and led him inside the tent. It was a small, washed-out green canvas, enough room for the two of them to sleep side by side but not much more. Geralt let the smaller man lead him, the two of them falling onto their sleeping rolls as they resumed kissing.

Jaskier trailed kisses down to Geralt’s neck, licking playfully at the omega glands there. They didn’t produce scent anymore, slick being the only scent identifying part left of him, but they were still sensitive, and Geralt couldn’t help but gasp as Jaskier playfully sucked a bruise onto one. A hand slipped under his tunic, finders catching the nub of the omegas nipple in between finger and thumb.

“How often do you have heats?”

“Really? You’re asking me that now-ah!” Geralt yelped as the other man pinched his nipple.

“I only want to know what to expect,” Jaskier smirked with a mischievous twist of his lips, leaning back to pull Geralt’s tunic off and then his own. His eyes alighted with what could only be described as lust as he trailed his fingertips over the various scars and scrapes, avoiding the freshly bandaged arm. He pushed Geralt down onto his back then straddled his hips and leaned forward over him to suck a perky nipple into his mouth.

Geralt bit his lip in a feeble attempt to hold back a gasp. His whole body arched, the electric sensations from his chest causing gooseflesh to arise over his skin. Jaskier leaned back and looked him dead in the eye, “ _Don’t_ hold back your sounds darling. I intend to make you scream before the sun has finished rising.”

Soft hands trailed down the omega’s chest, earning a gasp as fingers grazed over his sensitive nipples. Slowly moving over his abs, deft fingers hooked under his waistband and started to shimmy his trousers down. Geralt lifted his hips off the ground so that the other man could work them over his leaking ass to reveal his hard length which beaded with precum. Jaskier finished taking off the Witcher’s clothes and paused for a moment, taking in the debauched state of the man before him.

Geralt couldn’t take it for much longer. The heat had hit him full force, the burning desire was ripping through his insides, a deep ache that demanded to be filled. Another wave of need rushed through him and he rolled over on his stomach and spread his legs to give the alpha better access. “Jaskier,” he said, his voice husky with want, “Please I need it.”

He felt the other man move his body between his legs. A hand took one of his asscheeks in a firm grip and then a thumb slid into his waiting hole.

“Fuck Geralt, you’re so wet.”

Before Geralt could beg for more, the thumb was removed and a tongue took its place. It curled cruelly, making him spread his legs wider in a futile attempt for more.

_Fuckkk. Why had he never let anyone do this to him before? It felt fucking amazing._

A long finger slid in alongside the tongue. It crooked and sent shockwaves of pleasure rushing through his body. A second finger was added and a rhythm was started so that Jaskier was fucking him on his tongue and fingers in turn. It was all too much for the omega, he tilted his hips back and moaned as pleasure overtook his senses and he orgasmed before falling forward onto the bedroll.

The alpha finished licking up the sweet slick then sat back on his haunches to survey his work. Jaskier nodded to himself before kicking off his boots and taking off his restrictive trousers. “You know you taste amazing.” He murmured as he lay down beside the spent Witcher and turned them to face each other before wrapping Geralt in his arms. “Are you feeling okay now?”

Geralt hummed then leaned forward for a languorous kiss. “A bit.”

His own heat scent was thick in the air, mixing with the spicy scent of Jaskier’s alpha musk. Geralt kissed down the alphas neck until he reached the origin of the smell- alpha glands were usually smaller than the omega counterparts but they were just as powerful in delivering heavy doses of alpha pheromones. Geralt licked a stripe up the bards neck before he buried his nose in one and inhaled deeply. Jaskier’s scent was like a tinge of oiled wood mixed with mulled wine. But being so close to the source revealed notes of something else, like hints of a meadow bathed in golden rays of summer sun. It was intoxicating, renewing the need inside him and making his hazy thoughts focus on one thing.

He whined, slick dripping from between his legs, and his hips juddered forward to rub his renewed erection against the alphas own.

Jaskier bit back a grunt from the friction, “Ready again so soon? My…my…you really are an insatiable one aren’t you?” He fisted the omegas weeping cock and pumped his hand along its length slowly.

“Please Jaskier, I need it!” he breathlessly replied.

“Need what?” The musician asked with a grin.

He whined in frustration, “I need you to fuck me.”

Jaskier trailed his thumb across the omegas bottom lip. “My knot? Is that what you want? Hmm?”

“Yes! Please, _please!”_ The need was intensifying, making him rut up against the alphas hip.

“Say it.”

Geralt just about managed to muster whatever was left of his energy into a yellow eyed glare.

Jaskier laughed, “Fine! Fine. I’ll stop.” He leaned forward to peck the disgruntled Witcher on the lips. “You can’t blame me for having a little bit of fun! You are never usually this agreeable with me.” He shifted back making more room for them to move. “Do you want to be on your stomach or your back?”

Geralt couldn’t think straight. It was too much feeling, the warped warmth taking over his mind. All he could think of was having Jaskier in him _now._ “Alpha please,” he keened, “I need it. I don’t know, I don’t know!”

_Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-_

“Shh. It’s fine, I’m here.” Jaskier rolled him gently onto his back.

Geralt spread his legs to make room for the alpha that settled between them moments later.

“You really are beautiful you know that.”

The Witcher managed to focus on the bard. He could feel the alphas eyes roving over his body and taking in every minute detail. He rolled his own eyes, “Stop being a sap and just fuck me.”

“So demanding!” Jaskier laughed. He shifted, kicking Geralt’s legs further apart with his knees, then took his erection in hand and lined himself up. He leaned forward to press one last kiss to the omegas lips, “Tell me if I’m hurting you. Ready?”

Geralt answered with a roll of his hips and a bitten-lipped moan. The alpha huffed out a laugh and gripped the others hip as he guided the head of his cock inside the slicked hole. He stopped there, keeping the head just inside the rim. “Is that okay?”

The need was all-encompassing, the tent could have been on fire and Geralt wouldn’t have cared. All he could think about was being filled and being so close to completing his goal only served to make the heat burn hotter. “Yes! More. Now!”

Jaskier obliged, inching forward further into tight heat. “Still feel oka-“.

Geralt growled and hooked a large leg around the bards waist before pulling their bodies flush together. Alphas had large cocks, and Jaskier was no exception. Geralt gasped and arched his spine as the inches slid suddenly into his body. If he hadn’t been in heat it would have been painful, but as fate would have it, the slide of the cock sparked nothing but pure pleasure.

“FUCK!”

Jaskier froze, free hand moving to grip the Witcher’s bicep as the other moved to his thigh. There was concern in his eyes as he asked, “Geralt! Did that hurt?! Do you need me to stop?”

The omega grabbed him by the hair and yanked him forward for a brusque kiss, tongue diving into the alphas mouth before he pulled back to gruffly order, “Move. _Now.”_

“You know they say patience is a virtue.” The alpha remarked before pulling out until only the head of his thick shaft remained inside the Witcher. Then, in one fluid motion he rolled his hips forward so that the entire length of his cock slid back into the hilt.

“Yes! Like that!” Geralt hissed as his eyes rolled back in pleasure and he arched his back. Jaskier started a steady pace of thrusts, hand moving to the omegas hip to pin him in place, while the other hand reached forward to thread his fingers between Geralt’s.

The alpha watched in wonder as his friend fell apart in front of him. The omega held onto Jaskier with a harsh grip and his other hand was fisted in the slick-drenched sheets below him as if desperate to ground himself. With every thrust the once bright yellow eyes would flutter and roll, completely clouded over with heat. White hair spread out around his face like a halo, and the light flush that peppered his usually pale skin, coupled with the unguarded expression of ecstasy that shaped his features made him look obscenely beautiful.

Jaskier stopped thrusting for a moment, content with taking in the view, “Do you realise how utterly gorgeous you are right now?”

Glazed eyes cracked open, “Fucking dolt.” Geralt reached up to slide his arm around the bards neck and pull him down into another searing kiss. Jaskier slid his tongue along his partners, relishing in the taste of the omega below him, he pinned the mans free arm above his head as he started to rock his hips again into the tight heat. He pulled back from the kiss for air before pressing forward again, this time to nip at the panting, full lips. The alpha bit down just enough to draw a few drops of crimson blood which he then lapped at enthusiastically.

Geralt moaned, a wanton sound that came deep from his throat, and hooked his legs in a tight grip around the alphas hips. He began to rock into the thrusts, every roll of the alphas hips bringing on a torrent of tiny sounds of pleasure that managed to escape his mouth.

It was like music to Jaskier’s ears. But he thought he could do better.

He detangled himself from the omegas considerable thigh grip and pulled out, a string of precum mixed with slick still connecting the two bodies, then with one firm shove he gripped the omegas hips and flipped him over onto his stomach.

The Witcher grunted at the sudden loss in contact and seemed disorientated in the position change, wearily turning his head and looking backwards in an attempt to find his missing alpha. Glassy eyes jumped about in the low light, finally focusing on Jaskier, then the bard watched as thick muscles moved under flushed skin to get the omegas knees under him so he could raise his ass in the air and present himself.

Jaskier gulped, “Oh fuck”, throat salivating at the sight of the fucked out slit and the copious amounts of slick that were running down the muscular thighs. He wanted nothing more to bury his face in the ass and use his tongue to lick up every last drop of sweet slick, but as the omega whined, he was reminded he had a job to do.

“Hush, you’ll be fine,” he said reassuringly, soothing his hand down a scar-ridden flank.

Those same glassy eyes blew wide and the omega let out a startled yelp as Jaskier took his hips in a bruising grip and buried his cock to the hilt.

“Alpha!” Geralt gasped. He writhed on Jaskier’s thick cock as it moved in and out of him with a smooth glide, sparking tendrils of pleasure which rolled through his body and made his toes curl.

“Please alpha,” he keened, “I need…ah!” The bard started punching his hips forward in a series of quick movements, smiling when it made the bigger man stutter.

“What was that my darling omega? What do you need?”

“M-more! Please alpha I need it!” He sobbed and pressed his face into the linen of the bed roll.

Jaskier leant forward to lick a line up Geralt’s neck then the shell of his ear where he stopped to whisper, “Say it my lovely. Tell me what you really want.” 

The omega shivered an arched his back, his broad muscles straining, “Your knot! Please!” He panted, “I _need_ your knot!”

Lust curled low in Jaskier’s abdomen at the admission. He seized the back of the Witcher’s neck in a sturdy hold, his other hand still gripping his hip, and held him down as he set a brutal pace. Each thrust was deep and penetrating, ripping moans from the wrecked omegas throat.

Jaskier changed his own position, bringing one foot up to rest flat on the ground for better leverage whilst keeping his other knee on the ground. He continued fucking in and out of the other man, his new position rewarding him with screams of pleasure from the omega as he rolled his hips backward to meet every thrust.

“You like that? Love my cock splitting you open like this?”

“Yes! Jaskier I need it ineeditineeditineedit-“ Geralt begged, his mind clearly enraptured by heat, the mantra only broken by a scream as Jaskier thrust forward roughly.

Geralt came with a shout, his entire body going tight like a livewire. Muscles bunched and strained, and his tight hole got impossibly tighter as it fluttered around the intruding alpha cock. Jaskier could feel himself nearing orgasm. His alpha side took over, thrusting into the omega without abandon, enthralled by the impossible need to breed and take and mark and-

Jaskier shoved his cock balls deep, his knot swelled and caught as he shot thick ropes of cum into his mate. His jaw locked on the omegas neck, and it wasn’t until after he had stopped coming that he tasted the blood on his tongue and realised he had bond bitten the omega.

_Fuck. Geralt’s going to kill me._

He rolled both of them onto their side. Easily spooning the bigger man as his knot kept them tied together. Jaskier licked the metallic tasting claiming bite, cleaning it of blood. He really should have felt more guilty about it, no doubt he would later, but the alpha side of him was nothing but smug at having the beautiful omega properly mated and bred on his knot.

“I bit you.”

Geralt hummed then spoke with a rough voice, “I am aware.”

Jaskier placed lazy butterfly kisses around the bite. “You’re not mad?”

One bleary eye cracked open as the omegas head turned, “Should I be?”

“Well..I mean n-no. Or yes! It’s totally up to you. Unless you change your mind, in which case you are within you full right to-“

Geralt managed to twist around just enough to silence the babbling alpha before he dug himself further into a hole. “Jaskier,” he said huskily.

“Yes!?”

“Just shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed <3
> 
> Come see me on my tumblr [mistyawn!](https://mistyawn.tumblr.com/)


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